


got the sheets on the floor

by kay_emm_gee



Series: the kids aren't alright (The 100 tumblr prompts) [54]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Bellarke + "you open the door / wearing nothing but a smile, fell to the floor / and you whisper in my ear / baby i'm yours" </p><p>Summary: Summers are hot in D.C., and Bellamy doesn't quite realize the error of his ways in not buying an air conditioner like Clarke suggested until late one night, and despite Clarke's protest at him invading her nice cool apartment, she ends up liking the sweat they work up for a whole other reason than the oppressive summer heat outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got the sheets on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at smut hooo-kay. Let's do this.

Sighing, Bellamy flung the sheet off of his legs.

Then he rolled onto his side.

Two minutes later he flopped onto his back, arms splayed out wide.

It was useless, though; he couldn’t fall back asleep. The muggy summer heat was oppressive, so thick and heavy he felt as if it was pushing him down into the mattress.

Nothing helped. He had taken a frigid shower before bed, put his two fans on high, even stripped down to nothing, but still his skin hummed with heat.

_Goddamn D.C. summers._

This problem, of course, could have been solved if he had bought an air conditioner, as Clarke had so pointedly advised last week during their trip to Target.

 _They’re expensive_ , he had grumbled, which was true and not the most affordable option on his grad school stipend.  _And it’s especially not worth paying the extra electricity._

She had scoffed:  _suit yourself._

Honestly, he thought she had been exaggerating about the summers here, even with her being a native of the region and he a newcomer. Though he’d never tell her to her face, Clarke could be a bit, well,  _indulgent_  when it came to small comforts. Always needed high thread count sheets, bought brand name groceries instead of generic, jacked the heat up in the car when it was not even below fifty degrees. So Bellamy hadn’t taken her seriously. Now here he was, wide awake at one in the morning, sweating in places he didn’t even know  _had_  pores and cursing his past self for not applying to graduate schools in Maine or Seattle or someplace where humidity didn’t exist.

Just as he was contemplating taking another shower—because really, this heat was un-fucking-bearable—his phone lit up the otherwise shadowed room. Craning his neck, he checked the notification, which was a text from Miller, asking if he wanted to hang tomorrow. After answering in the affirmative, he noticed a Snapchat notification that he had missed from a couple of hours earlier. Bellamy opened the app and held his finger down on the little red square next to Clarke’s name.

The six-second snap was a close-up of her face, eyes shut tight and a smile almost hidden by the blue comforter pulled up past her chin, with the text reading:  _night from the princess ;)_

Normally Bellamy liked Clarke’s goodnight snaps, but he groaned and scowled a little bit at seeing this one. The fact that she was snuggled under her comforter meant that she had her air conditioning on high; there were probably icicles forming from her ceiling, given the way she usually cranked that thing up. The thought made him more than a little disgruntled that he was suffering this mugginess alone. As he shifted to sit up in bed, the sheet stuck to his legs and he kicked at it violently in frustration.

 _This is stupid,_  he thought glumly.

He let his thumb hover over the green phone app for only a few seconds before tapping it, going directly to his recent calls and hitting Clarke’s number.

She picked up on the last ring, grunting out, “What?”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, you’re frickin’ not,” she mumbled.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I told you so.”

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

“I’m not going to answer the door.”

“See you soon.”

“I hate you.”

Bellamy just grinned as he hung up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Quickly he found a pair of cargo shorts and a T-shirt to slide on, then grabbed his wallet and keys and headed out the door.

* * *

When the doorbell to her apartment rang, Clarke groaned, scrunching up under her covers as she convinced herself to get out of bed. She contemplated leaving Bellamy outside, because she had  _told_  him to buy an air conditioner, and as per usual, he was stubborn and a know-it-all and didn’t listen to her.

“Not that I’ve been living here my entire frickin’ life, oh no, don’t listen to me,” she muttered under her breath as she finally sat up, bunching the sheet around her for cover as she wasn’t wearing anything else. Shivering at the cool air that brushed over her bare shoulders, she shuffled out into the living room. Footsteps on the stairs stopped just outside her door, and she reached out, opening it with a frown. And then there Bellamy was, standing in her doorway wearing a sheepish—but also pleased,  _the jackass_ —grin, his shirt sticking in all the right places because of the heat, which did not help Clarke’s determination to stay mad at him for waking her up.

“I hate you,” she grumbled. “I was having a really good sleep.”

“Nice to see you too,” he replied, stepping forward presumably to give her a kiss hello.

She just wrinkled her nose and stepped back. “You’re all sweaty.”

Shrugging, Bellamy continued to move forward. “So?”

Clarke took another step backwards, dragging the sheet with her. “So I don’t want to be sweaty, and I don’t want my sheets to be sweaty. You should shower.”

“I’m not showering,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Then you’re not getting into bed with me,” Clarke said, raising her eyebrows before she turned to march off back to her room to get back to sleep.

“Hey!” He called out teasingly from behind her, and suddenly, the sheet was ripped away from her body. Clarke shrieked in protest, spinning and fumbling for it, registering that he was stepping on the edge of it, grinning stupidly.

The damage was done though: she was standing stark naked in the middle of her living room, her exposed skin tingling in the cool air. As Bellamy continued smiling at her, Clarke put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You—”

She didn’t get any further before he broke out into peals of laughter, which just caused her to scowl more. Undeterred, he just headed straight for her with an almost predatory stride. She narrowed her eyes and began backing up again, shaking her head slowly.

“Don’t you dare—”

He lunged for her, laughing, and she shrieked again, stumbling over her own feet as she tried to evade him, but he was fast. Almost immediately, Bellamy had her wrapped in his arms, pressing her front into his damp shirt. She let out a string of protests, but they were muffled from her face being sandwiched against his chest.

“What was that?” He asked smugly, looking down at her as she managed to shift her head up from his embrace to glare back at him.

“You smell disgusting,” she said, scrunching her face up. Then she jabbed and poked him mercilessly, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

As she wiggled in his arms, she managed to finally spin around, but then he chuckled and said, “Oh no you don’t.”

Pulling her back against him, his arms tightened around her again, one banded around her hips and the other around her ribcage. His damp shirt stuck to her back— _gross_ , she thought in annoyance, even as her pulse picked up at feeling his heat.

Then he made a satisfied humming noise, suddenly pressing a hard kiss to her shoulder that sent spirals of electric warmth across her chilled skin. She shivered at the contact, and she could feel him smiling into the nape of her neck as he brushed his lips upwards.

“Hi,” he whispered, low and rough, and the way his mouth danced up her neck and to that spot right behind her ear— _oh god._

Much to her dismay, she felt herself melting in his arms, despite the sweat and the smell. He laughed quietly again, and she jabbed him with her elbow, but he just started brushing his fingers against her side, her hipbone. With a hitched breath, she tipped her head back into his shoulder, letting her eyes closes halfway. As he slid one hand up between her breasts, then back down, his other hand shifted to press her hips back into him. Feeling him harden in response, she wiggled her ass a little, earning a surprised grunt from him. She smiled, but her smugness didn’t last long after Bellamy retaliated by biting her shoulder and reaching up to firmly palm her breast.

Sighing, because his heat, which completely enveloped her now, felt so very nice, especially in contrast to the cooled air. So Clarke let herself get lost in the warmth as he began to tease her, both with his mouth and his hands. His fingers eventually slipped down into her folds, and he muttered a quiet, hoarse  _fuck_  against her neck as he felt how wet she was.

“Bellamy—” She moaned, shifting so he would get the hint to speed it up a bit.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he whispered in her ear as he slipped a finger inside of her. “Let me make it up to you.”

She nodded furiously, her eyes still closed and her mouth parted as he began pushing in and out a bit faster, adding another finger when she whined in pleasure. Oppressive heat surrounded her now, growing muggier by the second. Her cheeks flamed as his fingers continued to push in and out, and her skin grew sticky, causing her hair to plaster against her neck.

Just as she began to peak, Bellamy sucked wetly on the skin of her neck, pressing the heel of his palm hard against her center, and then Clarke flew over the edge, letting out breathy moans as he coaxed her down from her high, clutching her tight with his free arm as her legs went weak.

“Bed,” he whispered, spinning her around forcefully even as he maintained his careful grip on her bare skin, his voice a bit unsteady and eyes dark with want. “Now.”

Groaning in frustration, Clarke plastered herself to his front, sliding her hands underneath his shirt to feel the warm skin of his chest under her fingers. His stomach flexed under her touch, but before she could work his shirt off of him, he leaned down to claim her mouth in a searing kiss. With his large hands clutching at her hips, he brought her even closer to him even as he began to push them back towards her room.

When she collapsed onto the bed—flushed and more than ready for more—the sheet stuck to her back, but she barely noticed. Instead, she focused on the amusingly hurried way Bellamy was shucking his clothes off. Clarke giggled and rolled her eyes when he dropped his shorts, revealing nothing underneath.

“It’s not  _that_  hot out,” she teased, her breath catching as Bellamy suddenly flopped on top of her, pinning her pleasantly down onto the mattress. Sliding his body up hers until his elbows rested just above her shoulders, he intertwined his fingers in her hair, his mouth an inch away from her own.

“Nothing wrong with going commando,” he murmured back, rolling his hips straight into her core, trying to prove his point. Her moan at the contact made him chuckle, at which Clarke frowned in disapproval, but that only made him grin wider.

While he was distracted, though, she pushed on his chest, rolling him over until she was straddling him. Then she was the one laughing at his slightly dazed expression, which turned dark when she wiggled on top of him. Grabbing his hands, she slid them up her sides, up and up and up until they were cupping her breasts. With a sigh—and a grin from Bellamy—she leaned forward, pressing every part of her into him. Her breath caught again as he rolled a nipple between his fingers, and she rocked reflexively, bracing her hands on his chest for balance.

“Clarke,” he exhaled weakly, dropping one hand to her clit and pressing right where she needed it—because he knew, he always knew—as he continued to knead her breast.

With a sharp whine she rose up—she needed him, she needed him  _now_ –reaching her hand for him, giving him a few quick, firm strokes before positioning herself right above. Then she slid down onto him, slowly, slickly. In response, Bellamy groaned and pressed against her center harder, circling quickly with the rough pads of his fingers. Wanting more, she rocked back and forth, her rhythm growing faster and wilder as he responded to her movements, thrusting up into her wet heat. His chest was fire underneath her hands, and Clarke felt her hands slip at dampness that built up between her palms and his skin. Everything was sticky, hot, humid as she rode him harder, loving the way his muscle strained and his mutterings grew more explicit as they both approached their highs. Finally, with one last press of his fingers, she cried out, reaching her climax, and Bellamy followed close behind, his hips bucking roughly. 

As the last twinges of pleasure coursed through her, Clarke slumped forward, her heated skin slick against his. Both of their chests heaved in sync, trying to catch their breath in the steamy air.

When the warmth grew to be too much, she rolled off of him, reaching up to bundle her damp hair off of her neck. As her pulse slowed, she began to feel the effects of her air conditioner again, the chilly air blowing faintly against her overly sensitive and heated skin. Clarke shivered at the change in temperature, feeling every inch of her grow clammy as she cooled.

“Now I’m sweaty too,” she complained, turning her head to mock-scowl at her boyfriend. “This is all your fault.”

Bellamy let out a quiet, rough laugh, pulling her into his side even as she halfheartedly groaned in protest at being in contact with his still-burning skin. “You’re welcome.”

“I hate you.”

“I love air conditioning.”

With a disgruntled but still fond huff, Clarke rolled away from him, back to, and yanked his arm over her side, snuggling back into the curve of his body. She felt him grin as he pressed his mouth against the nape of her neck, and she couldn’t help smile herself, because even though she was a little sweaty, she was also finally content to drift off for the night.


End file.
